


here for your entertainment

by braille_upon_my_skin



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: M/M, Some light dom/sub undertones., This ship has ruined me.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:58:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braille_upon_my_skin/pseuds/braille_upon_my_skin
Summary: "Every night, when the colored lights dim, the crowds have gone, and the only glitter still remaining lies sprinkled among the sand, The World's Greatest Showman puts on a private show meant entirely, exclusively forhim."





	here for your entertainment

...

 

Heat, burning, searing, like a brand to his skin that he can't get enough of.

A heady scent- aged whiskey, fragrant cologne, the faint dustiness of peanut shells, a cocktail of enticing, _intoxicating_ sweat and adrenaline- that wreathes around them, clinging to that prurient red coat and pervading Phillip's senses until he's drunk off of it, _more_ than drunk off of it.

The prick of teeth, of faint stubble biting into and grazing his heated and extremely _receptive_ skin.

Hands roaming _everywhere_ , touching and scraping at everything in reach- his chest, his nipples, his abdominal muscles, his thighs; squeezing and kneading the swell of his ass until Phillip is a moaning mess lying pliant, spread-eagle, ready, and so _eager_ to be opened and spread and filled to an impossible, mind-stealing _fullness_.

Phillip savors every line that Barnum scores down his chest and thighs, loves the dominance and aggression that easily melts away to tenderness and affection. How rough, merciless thrusts that have him crying out until his voice breaks into a mortifying shrill pitch, can turn in an instant to gentle, loving kisses showered over his brows, and his cheeks, and his nose. Deep, passionate, _rewarding_ kisses that swallow his moans and reduce the strain of his muscles as he is opened wide and left raw and trembling and gasping for each breath.

Until Barnum's name is the only word left in his vocabulary, because everything else has been snatched away, along with his reason and sanity.

The world that Phillip once resided in was stifling, _suffocating_ , as he told Barnum that night in the bar- the night when Phillip's life was changed forever in ways he never could have foreseen.

_A bit of a scandal_ \- Phillip was referred to in whispers he was meant to pretend he never heard. "A bit of a scandal", not only because his plays fared poorly, and his love of drink was widely known, but because some had reason to believe he was interested in the male form beyond having an appreciation for its artistic and aesthetic beauty.

And, Phillip did nothing to quell or dispute these rumors. What would be the point when the moment P.T. Barnum approached him and initiated conversation, Phillip was _instantly_ taken with the man? Barnum's dark, intent stare, his effortless charm, the magnetism of his low, rumbling baritone that sent shivers down Phillip's spine, his unfazed, unwavering comfort in living outside of the restrictions imposed on him by society. The _thrill_ that Barnum took in challenging and defying convention to the point of inciting controversy, and then proceeding to take that controversy as a challenge to shock and awe all over again. But, this time bigger, _bolder_.

Were it not for his own reservations, Phillip was quite ready to follow the man right to Hell's Gate when Barnum spun him around in his stool with impressive and _alarming_ strength, toyed with the ends of his loosened bow tie, and persistently trailed him all over the tavern, promising to give him freedom to dream, to cure his aching.

How could either of them know that what Phillip _really_ ached for was _Barnum, himself_?

The force of Barnum driving into him, bringing him right to the edge, his release mere seconds away as Barnum fucked him with his fingers only to withdraw and leave Phillip _whining_ in his desperation to reach his climax. Whining, and _pleading_ , and tempted to climb the length of the ringmaster's body, to wrap his legs around Barnum's waist and lower himself onto the man's cock. To do whatever it took to reach that sweet oblivion.

Phillip's heart is that of a romantic. His first impulse is to hold a girl's hand before he ever attempts to flirt with her. Though softer sentiments do not come easily to him, his methods of courting are reserved and traditional.

With Barnum, it's as though something that has been repressed and forced deep down inside of him comes screaming to the surface, bringing with it an almost insatiable primal need. As that need intensifies, building and mounting to a piercing ache that engulfs every inch of him, Phillip encourages Barnum to take up a frantic, ferocious pace that has both of them on the verge of falling apart.

Stifled and smothered and repressed Phillip Carlyle who inhabited a joyless world that only funded his reliance on liquor because he sold it bland and flavorless "virtue", void of any true creativity or deeper meaning- an act so shameful and degrading that it, in turn, drove him to indulge with increasing frequency, downing every drop of liquor he could get his hands on, no longer caring about the taste so long as it burned and numbed everything out of existence- never could have imagined _this_.

Never could have fathomed in even his wildest and most perverse fantasies that he would derive such a _thrill_ , such _pleasure_ from subjugation. That he could _enjoy_ submitting so wholly to another. That he would _love_ being _owned_ , carnally.

But, _that_ Phillip Carlyle never knew how it felt to be truly _alive_ , to know total and complete _bliss_ , the way the Phillip Carlyle that comes apart under Phineas Taylor Barnum and is then gently, lovingly put back together by the man's deft and adroit hands, who has life breathed into him by every consuming kiss that his mouth is taken into, does.

Even if he is sore and walking with a slight limp, the next day, Phillip has absolutely no qualms about the life that Barnum whisked him away to, with all of its wondrous, rapturous fantasy made real.

Every night, when the colored lights dim, the crowds have gone, and the only glitter still remaining lies sprinkled among the sand, The World's Greatest Showman puts on a private show meant entirely, exclusively for _him_.

And, he has never known a gratification and joy as vast, and far-reaching, and _complete_ as the one that takes him over when that show reaches its grand finale.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work comes from the Adam Lambert song, "For Your Entertainment" 
> 
> I can't possibly be the first person to have immediately dubbed this a P.T./Phillip song, right? The lyrics are so fitting for them.


End file.
